Afternoon with Dad
by mum-to-you
Summary: For my darling Twix, who specifically reqested this story. One dad, seven children. It's not who you think.


Afternoon with Dad

Percy Weasley surveyed the carnage in the drawing room with wry distaste. He absolutely hated clutter and chaos, but he seemed powerless to control it. Somehow, the system had broken down. Again. He sighed, resigned to the fact that one father could only do so much in the face of seven children. He continued pacing back and forth in front of the hearth.

Seven. He shook his head, amused at the irony. He reminded himself yet again, to ask Dad how the hell he'd managed it all those years, but he supposed Dad would just say, "The same way you do." And laugh. Dad would most definitely laugh.

Growing up in a house full of children had been very difficult for Percy, who had been a middle child. From a young age, he had learned to be self-sufficient and had often felt forced to isolate himself from the others just to find any semblance of privacy or quiet. He hadn't been neglected--in fact, he rather suspected he had been Mum's favorite in many ways--but he had always had this sense of not quite fitting in. The youngest of the older ones, but too old really to be considered one of the little ones. Squeezed from both ends. How he had resented it!

And that resentment had almost gotten him killed. Percy knew he was intelligent, but even intelligent people can make stupid choices. And make them he did, in spades. Fifteen years later, he was still ashamed of the anguish he had caused his family. And Penny. What a prat he had been! So gullible, so naive, so . . . ridiculous. The one thing he couldn't stand more than anything was looking ridiculous. And his disastrous flirtation with the Death Eaters had nearly cost him his family, the woman he loved, his self-respect, his dignity, and at the last, his life. Talk about looking ridiculous.

He stopped wearing a path in the rug and looked down at the tiny dark head on his shoulder. Blue eyes peeped up at him, then scrunched up as Gideon's little body doubled up in pain against him. The colicky baby let out a wail, and Percy patted his soft back consolingly. It was a tender moment, right up until Gideon spit up all over Percy's robes. It was impossible for someone as fastidious as Percy not to wince, but what the hell. There was dignity, and then there was dignity. This, he could live with.

He shrugged out of his robes and left them in a pile in the middle of the floor. He could take care of that later. He lay Gideon down in the cradle, covered him with a blanket, and hoped that he would sleep until Penny got home from work to feed him. There were some things a father simply could not be expected to do!

He picked up his wand from off the tea table and began casting the tidying spells that were such second nature to him, for all the good they did in here. As he walked across the room to pick up his robes for the laundry, he paused to look at the pictures of his children on the mantle. Of the seven, only Emma and Gideon had not been what Penny called "Weasleyized." The others, except for Lucy, had dark auburn hair that seemed a fair compromise between both parents. Only Lucy had the characteristic carrots for which the Weasleys were well known. He beamed at the faces on the mantel, some of them waving, some crying, some sucking on their thumbs.

Serious little Emma, his eldest, was a second-year at Hogwarts. She definitely didn't look like what might be termed a "classic" Weasley, with her mother's delicate features and brown hair, but there was something in her expression that so captured Percy's prim essence that they might have been twins. She had surprised herself and everyone this year by being chosen Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, much to the delight of at least two of her uncles. Percy hoped the extracurricular activity wouldn't interfere with her studies.

Next came Tessa, who was the spitting image of her nan, at least according to Dad. Tessa was the outgoing one, always ready with a smile or a laugh. Never a hint of temper, never a cross word to anyone. He thought with a chuckle that she was definitely not like Mum in that respect! Tessa was talkative, effusive, and active. The world seemed to have been created for her extreme amusement, Percy thought. He loved her dearly, but Merlin, she wore him out! When she had first gone to Hogwarts this year, he had savored the relative quiet, but after a day or so, the house seemed to echo with emptiness.

Percy's reverie of his children's varied personalities was interrupted by the crashing of four of those personalities through the back door. Olivia, who was eight, had been supervising her sisters out in the garden. Eliza and Amelia, who were five, came in behind her, practically dragging two-year old Lucy. All four of them were soaking wet. "Stay right where you are!" Percy exclaimed, "Don't you dare come dripping into the rest of house." He strode over to the sodden girls with his wand out. "_Accio Towels_" he called out, and four large, fluffy bath towels came flying out of the hallway cupboard and settled themselves around the girls' shoulders.

Eliza grinned up Percy mischievously and commented unnecessarily, "We're wet."

"I can see that, you silly," he replied, trying to suppress a smile. "Whatever happened?"

To his further amusement, Amelia looked at her father as if he were a congenital idiot and said, "Well, it's raining, then, isn't it?"

Olivia then added, "We were way out in the back of the garden by the privet hedge, and we ran back as fast as we could." She looked at little Lucy with undisguised disdain. "For some of us, that's not very fast."

"Livie, she's only two," he reproved sternly. Olivia was by far the most athletic of the girls. She was tall for her age and wiry. Percy would not be at all surprised if she wound up playing Chaser, or even Beater, one day.

"All right, you lot, down to your knickers. You're not traipsing through the house with that mess. On second thought, I want the knickers, too. Let's get you dried off before you catch your deaths." As a younger man, Percy could never, ever have imagined a situation that involved himself and four naked, wriggling girls, and now the reality of it was enough to make him snort with laughter.

He picked up a very damp Lucy with a practiced movement and shepherded the other three ahead of him up the stairs. Lucy, who wanted in the worst way to get down, was very wriggly indeed. He lifted her up into the air, which made her laugh, then settled her on top of his head and shouted, "Baby Hat!" As an afterthought he reminded her, "Whatever you do, don't wee on me!" All five of them dissolved into giggles.

After sending Olivia and the twins to their rooms to change clothes, Percy took Lucy into the nursery and plopped her on her bed. As he turned his back to get a nappy and some clothes, she hopped up and ran across the room. He chased the naked little girl around the room for a bit, pretending he couldn't catch her, then grabbed her up in fierce hug. Holding her like a baby in his arms, he bent down and blew raspberries on her tummy until she convulsed with laughter.

Downstairs, he made them hot chocolate and cinnamon toast. That was one of his specialties that Penny thought was an unhealthy snack, so of course, it was their favorite. He checked on Gideon, who must have been very tired indeed after his tummyache because he was still fast asleep. He settled them all in the drawing room in front of the fire, and before long, Lucy was asleep, curled up in the dog's bed next to the hearth. "Hardly sanitary," he thought, "but I suppose she'll live." Olivia was sitting on the settee with a book. Athletic, she was, but Percy was delighted that she also loved to read.

Amelia crawled up into the big squashy armchair where Percy was reading a fascinating biography of the famous former Minister of Magic who in 1873 had been instrumental in passing legislation regulating the types of magical substances that could be used as the cores of wands. Eliza climbed up behind Amelia clutching their favorite book of fairy tales in one hand. "Daddy, read," she demanded.

"What would you like me to read, poppet?" he asked, knowing full well which story she would want.

Amelia answered for them, "Read 'The Three Sillies.'" Eliza nodded her head in agreement.

"No, not that one!" he said with feigned shock. Then he pushed his glasses up on his nose and opened the book to the well-thumbed story. He read to the part where the first silly had discovered the wooden mallet in the ceiling, then continued in a high-pitched, girlish voice, "For supposing him and me were married, and supposing we were to have a son, and supposing he were to grow up to be a man, and supposing he were to come down to draw cider like as I'm doing, and supposing the mallet were to fall on his head and kill him, how dreadful it would be!" The girls, even Olivia, were giggling like mad, when they heard a soft, musical laugh from the doorway.

Percy looked up to see Penny standing in the doorway surveying the domestic scene with affection and amusement. They grinned at each other for a moment. Then as if sensing his dinner had finally arrived, baby Gideon awoke and began to cry. Penny walked over and ruffled Percy's hair, then picked up Gideon and settled down on the settee next to Olivia to nurse him. They all laughed while Percy finished the story. Afterwards, Penny gazed around the room and sighed. Then she looked at Percy with mock seriousness, "You had to choose between reading a story and tidying up, then."

Percy looked over at her sheepishly and replied, "Well, yes, I suppose I did. You might say things a got a bit, erm, hectic."

Penny laughed and walked over to him. After putting the baby in his arms, she smiled and caressed his cheek. Bending down, she kissed him emphatically and said, "Excellent choice, Dad."


End file.
